


Touch of Grey

by ellethom



Series: THe Color of Music: JB Appreciation Week 2015 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Continuation of Broke-down Palace, F/M, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, as usual, i'm late, silver - Freeform, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:15:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JB Appreciation Week 2015 .  I came back to play in this fanfic universe again because the voice told me to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch of Grey

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note. I didn't think i would write anymore for this series, then i realized i am in debt for two fics. So, here is one. This is silver. 
> 
> This fic has one more one shot coming, do not ask me when i will get to it i have no idea. I honestly don't know how i feel about this one, its different than what i usually write. 
> 
> This is unbeta'd all mistakes are mine. Title is, yet again, The Grateful Dead
> 
> Leith is an Arabic name, it translates into 'little lion." I thought it was cute.

She pushed open the solid oak door to the sound of her husband’s rich, if dischordic baritone. Tossing her keys onto the table by the door she sighed “I wish you wouldn't sing that to him.” Brienne sniffed.

“He likes it.” Jaime defended, bouncing the seven month old on his lap.

“You like it.” She accused with a kiss to the small blonde boy.

“That's what I said.” Jaime smiled, he leaned into her and passed the baby to her outstretched arms. Brienne nestled the blonde boy into the crook of her arms and sat down. This was her favorite part of each day; home after teaching history classes. When they had finally become pregnant, it was Jaime who took a break from his family’s museum and agreed to stay home. “How was he today?”

Jaime rose and headed for the kitchen; from the smell that had led her from the elevator of their building and into the two bedroom apartment, he was off to check on the home made mac and cheese. Her favorite. “Oh, you know.” Jaime waved as he moved. “Same as always. Demanding, loud and messy.”

“At least you two have something to talk about then.” Brienne called from the living room with a smile.

Jaime pointed a spatula at her from the island separating the kitchen and living room. “ I will have you know.” He said. “I am quite capable of conversing with my son in a multitude of topics.”

Brienne tucked Leith into her shirt and felt a rush of relief as he latched on. She stood on the other side of the counter and watched Jaime pull a pan from the oven. “That smells amazing.” She said wistfully. Brienne switched the infant to the other side and reached for plates. She had wanted to tell him what she had found straight away, but they had fallen into the evening routine so easily she wasn't quite ready to admit defeat.

Somewhere between the salad and the roasted chicken, she found her courage. “Do you remember I told you I was going to research at the library last weekend?” She asked.

Jaime nodded and ripped a large chunk of Italian bread and placed it on her plate. “For the seminar class?” He said.

“Sort of.” She admitted. “But there was more to it than that.”

He stopped chewing and fixed his emerald eyes in her. She was again struck by his beauty. “Sort of?”

Brienne nodded and looked at Leith, asleep in the playpen near the door. “ I needed to know.” She said with a nod toward the baby. “ For him.”

He was quiet, one of the few things that rendered Jaime Lannister devoid of speech was the anticipation of her words. He could always tell when it was important. “What did you find?” He finally asked when it seemed Brienne would not offer more information.

She dove into her work bag and came up with a small stack of papers. The top page slid across the small table toward the blonde man. 

“KLU has an extensive archive of royal history.” Brienne said.

He nodded and wiped his hands in the cloth napkin before taking the page in his hands. “What am I looking at?” He asked as he scanned the photocopy.

“That, is a scan from microfiched copy of the White Book.” 

He frowned then dipped his head in understanding. “ The Kingsguard kept records of their deeds in that book.”

“And Queensguard.” Brienne amended quickly.

Jaime’s face crinkled into a smile and his hand reached across the table to grasp hers. “ Quite right. But this is the kingsguard, correct?” 

Brienne nodded and pointed to the section she wanted him to see. “Jaime Lannister’s pages. “ She said. “Look at the last entry.”

Jaime tilted his head and squinted. Brienne really noticed the 15 year age difference in these moments when she wondered where he had hidden his new reading glasses. “Returned safely to King’s Landing by Brienne, the Maid of Tarth.” Jaime looked at her and smiled. “Wow.” 

“Wow indeed.” She agreed. “There's more.” She said and placed the next page in front of him. 

Jaime took the next page in his fingers and rubbed his eyes. “And this is?”

“This, came from Winterfell.” She pushed the copy in front of him and nodded.

“Winterfell?” He asked eyes wide. “As in Starks, dire wolves and Winter Is Coming?”  
Brienne stood and began to clear the table. 

“Read it if you can, old man. Where are your specs?”

“Right next to my cane and the jar of Metamucil. I don't need them.” He insisted.

Brienne ignored him and managed to get the sink filled while he strained through the text. “ Is this for real?” He asked.

Brienne shrugged. “As far as I know. Dr. Stark brought it to me last month, thought I would find it interesting.”

“Last month?” Jaime railed. “How did you manage to keep tight lipped about a marriage registry for a month?” 

She shrugged and offered her husband a small smile. “Is that all you took from that?”

He scanned again and frowned. “What am I missing?” 

“So much without your reading glasses.” 

Jaime sighed dramatically and left the kitchen. He returned with the too expensive frames perched on his nose. Brienne offered him a thumbs up and turned back to the dishes.

By the time Jaime had settled back into his seat, Brienne had finished the dishes and was settling Leith for his second evening feeding. She watched her husband hunch over the documents in front of him and grin foolishly. “They were married at Winterfell?” he asked with a sidelong glance.

Brienne nodded as she held Leith’s small hand. His bright blue eyes danced as he gurgled around her small nipple. “They were married in front of a heart tree.’ She corrected. “By the Old Gods.”

“Still a marriage.” He offered turning back to the papers in front of him. “Be it by the Old gods or the New.”

Brienne switched sides and Leith latched on again. “The ceremony was recorded. That’s what shocks me.”

He raised his golden head and peered at her over his glasses. “Why?”

Brienne shrugged and settled into her own seat at the kitchen table. “I don’ know why it was recorded. There doesn’t seem to be a reason. For all intents and purposes Gerion was a bastard. I wondered why the heir to Tarth would not be a Lannister.” She sighed, noting that Leith had fallen asleep eating. “So—“

“You kept digging.” Jaime finished with a nod. “What did you find.”

She patted the infant as he slept, Leith let out a loud and satisfying burp and continued to sleep. “I did.” 

Jaime motioned to continue. “I think you should read the rest of what I found.” Brienne said. 

XXXXXXX

He found her some twenty minutes later, she was in their shared office within the small apartment, two desks pushed together with a banker’s lamp poised dangerously in the center. He entered the near closet with the papers tucked under his arm and a wry grin dancing across his aging features. “He’s sleeping?” Jaime asked.

“Yes, thank the gods. I have two power point presentations to review for tomorrow and still last week’s paper’s to post to Moodle.”

Wordlessly, Jaime took the stack of papers from her to do pile and fired up his computer. “I didn’t intend that you should do my work for me, Jaime.” She said.

“The sooner you’re done, the sooner I get you to myself.” He said with raised eyebrow. “Trust me wench, this is a purely selfish act.” It was typical for them to fall into a silence as they worked. They often worked together into the night. Before Jaime took his sabbatical, they had researched together for the book he was still in the planning stages of producing. “Besides, its faster if we talk while we work.”

“So you read all of it then?” she asked, clicking through the first power point about medieval family dynamics and gender positioning. 

“Gerion was no bastard.” He nodded.

“It appears.” She smiled over the top of her laptop at him.

“Gerion,” he said slowly glaring back at his wife. “Was a girl.” 

Brienne sat back in her chair and studied her husband. “Does that bother you?” she asked with a quirk of eyebrow.

“Why should it” he shrugged, continuing to plow through the stacks of graded work and entering them beside the correct name. “It actually explains why the heir of Tarth wasn’t a Lannister.”

“It does.” She agreed without looking up.

“Jaime Lannister, however, seems to have disappeared into history.” He shrugged. “Just vanished.” Jaime waved his free hand as if to emphasize the very Houdini-ish nature of the act.

“That bothers you?” she asked stopping her work. 

It was Jaime’s turn to sit back into his chair and peer at the person on the other side of the desks. He folded his arms and adapted his snootiest manner. Brienne hated that affectation; she referred to it as his ‘Dick Professor Persona.’ “It doesn’t make sense.” He whined petulantly. “Why would he do that?”

“I’m sorry?” Brienne asked, confused.

“Leave his wife, his kid. Why would he do that?” 

“Jaime, it’s possible he didn’t have a choice. There were a lot of people not happy with the Lannisters at the time.”

He shook his head violently and stood up. “He was a coward. He left her there to raise the kid alone. “ he seemed angrier than Brienne could understand. “Fucking coward.” He said and left the small room leaving Brienne gawping behind him. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Jaime crawled into bed long after she had. Brienne knew he had been sitting in the nursery with Leith; she’d past the room on her way into the bathroom to clean up before bed. Brienne could smell the toothpaste on him even though he maintained an unusual distance between them. It felt like Siberia.

“Why did you wait so long to show me all of that?” He asked her in the silence, the accusation hanging across the frozen wasteland between them.

“Had I known you would have this reaction? I would have waited much longer.” She turned to face him, trying to bridge some of the distance. “What’s going on, Jaime?” she asked.

He didn’t answer right away, Brienne discerned a slight shift of his weight in the dark, but he did not move closer. “Do you remember our first date?” he asked, finally.

Brienne snorted, “That was a disaster.” She laughed. “Besides my running off in the middle of the meal?”

“You said that Brienne of Tarth was someone you looked up to; that she was someone you could emulate.”

She nodded in the darkness. “She was…I guess in a lot of ways she still is.” Brienne sat up and turned again toward her husband. “Is that what this is about?”

“Do you think I’ll leave you, Brienne?” he sounded like a little boy rather than the 45 year old man she knew him to be.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jaime!” Brienne pushed closer to him, hesitantly, she reached for his hand and was surprised when he let her take it. “Why would I think that?”

“I once asked you if you believed in fate, destiny.” He said. “I can’t help but wonder if we are doomed to repeat this in an endless cycle.”

“Really?” 

He did come closer to her then, and Brienne was grateful for the contact. “I’m an old man.”

“Older,” she amended. ”Hardly old by any stretch of the imagination.”

“Older than you.” He said. “By nearly twenty years.

She hadn’t realized that this would affect him. Their age difference had never been an issue before. “You’re still the prettier one.” She smiled.

Her words seemed to make the room heavier rather than lighter. “Jaime Lannister, or, what I have learned of him, loved fiercely.”

“Especially his sister.” Brienne added, only realizing after the words had left her lips that it was not the right thing to say.

“I have rubbed off on you.” Jaime fired back. She could hear the frustration in his voice. Her husband was not one for sour moods that bled his wit, it frightened her. 

"Jaime," she spoke softer, in the dark barely a whisper. "I know you are not going anywhere."

"How do you know, Brienne?" he asked hoarsely. "DO you realize how old i will be when Leith is ready for college?" He sat up then, his body twisted to the other side of the bed. "He wouldn't have left them if he had the choice."

"You don't know that for sure.."

"It may seem silly to you that i am so affected by this, but..." he shook his head and reached for the light. "My hair is turning grey."

She wanted to laugh, it was her first response. Sometimes she forgot how vain he could be. She swallowed her first instinct and slid across the great divide to rest beside him. Arm slung around his back she laid her head onto his side. "Jaime, nothing is guaranteed. Not for any of us."

"Death and taxes." Jaime's voice rumbled through his skin and Brienne nestled closer. 

"I am glad she had that, this." she a\said after a time. "For however long she had it, for however brief their lives together were, I think it was worth whatever pain their final separation left her." Brienne stroked his arm as she spoke. "I know because i feel the same way. You forget, until you I thought she and I were both alone."

Jaime twisted in her grasp and they both sought the succor of their bed. This time, without Siberia between them.

Minutes later, as she felt his breathing even into rhythmic ebbs, she leaned into his ear. "I like the grey Jaime. It suits you." She raised a hand to stroke his hair. She had noticed it long before him, It was more prevalent in his beard. "But, it's more silver than grey. Brings out the gold"


End file.
